Halloween
by HeathenVampires
Summary: They always dress up in daft, non-scary outfits. It's tradition. That didn't mean Vlad was prepared to see Ingrid dressed as an angel. Established Vlad/Ingrid one shot.


**Finally! Someone sent me a prompt for a Vlad/Ingrid one shot. It's been all How To Train Your Dragon prompts, these guys have been hugely under-loved but I need requests/prompting to function as a writer.**

 **This isn't set any particular time or on any of my timelines, just an established Vlad/Ingrid relationship where they are at a Halloween party.**

 **(I have not forgotten It Never Happened, I just hit a brick wall so I'm doing this to help unclog the writers block)**

-YD-

Vlad was in shock. He knew it was a running joke that they dress as really ridiculous, not-scary things for Halloween.

But nothing prepared him for Ingrid dressing up as an _angel._

Her ivory skin put the white of her dress to shame. The dress was slim-fit, the material ghosting halfway down her thighs but Ingrid had white stockings that just peeked out if the hem of her dress shifted. The halo was a close fit thing, to avoid the bulky support stick between it and her head. Her makeup was done in all pale golds and yellows, with the softest pink hue on her lips.

Then there were the wings, downy and soft looking feathers that shivered slightly as she moved, looking very much like she would spread them and take flight any minute now.

"I feel underdressed."

"You look ridiculous."

Vlad shrugged in his white doctors coat and blue scrubs, a badge that read 'Dr. A. Cula' pinned to his chest pocket that had a pen, a syringe and one of those weird upside down watches hanging from it. The only part Vlad had foregone was shoes - he only owned black boots or canvas trainers. Ingrid had white boots that came halfway up her shin, with an unusually low heel and even little angel wings looped on to the laces from the sides.

Ingrid never did turn down an excuse to get new shoes.

"It's meant to be ridiculous. You just never play along."

"I'm the only vampire who can pull this off, admit it."

"Oh, absolutely. Still. Shall we?"

The Dracula siblings were some of the only ones who actually dressed up for the Vampire High Council Halloween Ball, everyone else just in swathes of black and red, or black and purple, black and yellow... a lot of black.

Their white attire stuck out like a beacon, but then Vlad mused that they had always stuck out. Being the Grand High Vampire, he was often the centre of attention. Well, second to Ingrid. His sister.

His wife.

It wasn't _illegal,_ but it was certainly unorthodox. Everyone knew it was the case, but that didn't stop the strange looks when they thought Vlad and Ingrid weren't looking.

Bertrand was one of the few who was brave enough to approach them, and one of the few wearing something not with a cape. He wore a black and white striped fine-knit jumper, black trousers and shoes and his usually olive skin dabbed all white - Vlad suspected he was supposed to be a mime.

"Do you two not make enough of a splash when you enter a room?"

"When have you ever known Ingrid to be shy?"

Bertrand chuckled as Ingrid leant into Vlad's side, careful not to crumple her wing against his shoulder as an arm wrapped around her waist. In her heels their heights were equal, made it no effort to turn his head and catch her lips. The 'mime' tsked, rolling his eyes at them. Vlad smirked, but Ingrid answered.

"Pretty sure your costume means shut the fuck up."

"You sure have a filthy mouth for an angel."

Flirting was a natural part of Ingrid and Bertrand's conversations, and it just amused Vlad. It was _his_ coffin Ingrid would be in come dawn... if Vlad could wait that long.

"I'm working on the _fallen_ angel thing. Though from what I've heard about this whole Adam and Eve business, the fact I fuck my brother wouldn't be a deal breaker."

They'd been bloodbound for long enough that Vlad felt someone's passing gasp was overdramatic. Bertrand actually chuckled, jokingly bowed to them a couple of minutes later and left Vlad to fend off really boring vampires who wanted to network at the party. The vampires who wanted to ogle Ingrid's costume up close were far more amusing, because depending on the particular minute they got her her reactions varied from growling to glaring to flat out staking them.

Anyone Vlad staked needed justification.

Anyone Ingrid staked was a warning not to repeat the behaviour of.

He might be the Grand High Vampire, but Ingrid was _absolutely_ in charge of him. The scars on his neck said as much - for him to offer his throat was the ultimate claim of power, and Ingrid eagerly took the chance to mark him.

"All I'm saying is that the werewolf treaty..."

Vlad tuned out the Hungarian vampire complaining about the peace treaty with the werewolves, then there was the Italian vampire who was currently having an affair with the head of the Slayers Guild in his hometown, but complained he couldn't bite breathers. The lack of logic was ridiculous.

Ingrid was against one of the stone pillars on the side, sipping a goblet of blood and talking to another VHC members wife, Julianna Yates. Julianna was one of the few people to have frequent access to the Dracula home, as she and Ingrid got along rather well and spent much of their time together when Vlad was busy doing boring official things. Her husband Seether was monotonous, but harmless.

Vlad could sit and watch Ingrid for hours. She was graceful, fluid and seemed to leave trails in the air, so magical and major was her presence. Slender and curvy, her white outfit only added to the statement she made.

"Could you be more disgustingly in love?"

"I know, its terribly unvampiric of me."

Bertrand chuckled, holding out a still-sealed bottle of soy blood for Vlad. He thanked the man, eyes roaming the crowd for his wife and frowning that her bright white outfit wasn't visible.

"Your name tag was inspired, by the way."

"I thought so. Ingrid rolled her eyes for a good three minutes."

"You're a dork. What did you expect?"

Ingrid had materialised next to him, leaning elegantly against his throne with a bit of blood darkening the previously soft, pink hue of her perfect lips. Vlad felt his dead heart stutter in his chest, raking his eyes down her body. How this gorgeous creature saw him as worthy... it completely boggled his mind.

"It's tradition! What's worse? This or the zombie outfit last year?"

Ingrid dragged her eyes along his outfit, clearly refraining from just rolling her eyes again.

"At least the zombie was playing dead. _This_ is practically blasphemy."

"Yeah, well, they have a name for doctors who kill. I'm an angel of mercy. So... we're both angels."

Vlad did an internal victory dance - he had surprised her. She cocked her head, halo glittering in the candle light.

"Congratulations, you had an original idea. Don't let it go to your head."

"Lucifer forbid."

She smirked, sending a fresh flock of butterflies rampaging through Vlad's stomach. Fuck, she was beautiful.

"How long do we have to stay anyway?"

"After all the effort you put into your outfit, you want to leave?"

Ingrid leant in closer, taunting him with the scent of her perfume.

"Maybe I want to get to the fall from grace."

His breath hitched; Vlad wasn't sure he would ever get enough of how badly he wanted Ingrid.

"Then I'm ready when you are."

Ingrid reached for his hand, leading a willing Vlad along and nobody was in any doubt; His Grandness was ditching early to join his wife in a coffin. Well... they might not make it that far. Vlad considered it a miracle they made it back to their castle. The second they landed, Ingrid had her mouth on his.

Her halo clattered to the ground, a fitting symbol of what was to happen as Vlad buried a hand in her satin-soft hair, the other around her waist to hold their bodies flush. Ingrid moaned into his mouth, knowing the effect it would have on him as he growled and bit at her lip.

Vlad's hands landed on her thighs, fingers exploring the bare skin just above her suspenders and pushing her dress up. Her skin was so smooth it practically flowed along his fingers, gliding across the delicate surface of her inner thighs and Ingrid shuddered, moaning softly against his mouth.

Reaching the apex of her thighs, Vlad followed the line to her suspender-belt and found one of Ingrid's favourite surprises.

"Fuck Ingrid, what kind of angel goes all night without underwear?"

Her mouth curled up in a smirk, biting her lip and whimpering low in her throat when Vlad touched her. She shoved off his doctors coat, the pocket contents clunking heavily to the ground but Vlad was already moving his hands back to Ingrid, dipping his head to drag his fangs over her throat. She turned her head, bared more of her neck to him and his fangs pulsed hungrily.

Their teeth sort of gnashed against each other as their fangs clacked, Vlad shifting the angle of his head to account for it and Ingrid hummed, licking the roof of his mouth. Ingrid lost her wings in the next few minutes fumbling, another fitting sentiment for the act of defilement they would commit.

Ingrid reached for his scrubs t-shirt, pulling the blue material up and Vlad helped get it over his head, feeling Ingrid rake nails down his bared chest. He groaned in pleasure, loving the way she left lines of fiery pain that became pleasure across him. Ingrid's thighs and calves wrapped about his hips and waist, yanking Vlad between them until his erection was rutting against her clit, both moaning appreciatively.

"As your doctor, can you show me where it hurts?"

She rolled her eyes, bucking her hips into him and smirking as Vlad choked on a moan.

"Isn't it your job to find out?"

Vlad skated his fingers along her inner thigh, watching her quiver.

"I _will_ leave if you make a joke about feeling a small prick and then its over."

"If that were the case I wouldn't bother."

He pushed her properly onto the table she was leaning against, Ingrid's head tipping back as he stroked her clit, felt her grow wetter on his fingers and revelled in the fact he could arouse the seductive goddess before him.

 _"Vlad..._ fuck me."

She moaned the words, hot and breathy as she buried a hand in his hair and dragged him closer, kissing him so hungrily she left Vlad's head spinning. Her free hand went for his waistband, tugging the (surprisingly comfortable) hospital scrubs down to free his cock and stroke him roughly. Vlad thrust into her grip, gasping against her smirking mouth.

"You better stop or I'll make a mess of your dress."

"Not like I'm wearing it again."

"Shame. I quite like defiling an angel."

Ingrid rolled her eyes, shifting her hips and guiding Vlad into place.

"You already defiled your sister."

Vlad buried himself in her with one slow, steady thrust, loving the way Ingrid took him in and moaned softly, held his gaze the whole time. Her silver-blue eyes were full of desire and love, taking away his breath so frequently Vlad was lucky he didn't need it. Ingrid was soft, wet, receptive and blood did their bodies belong together in the most intimate sense of the word.

"All those years picking on me, ever think one day you'd be begging for my cock inside you?"

"All those years dreaming of me, looking when you thought I wouldn't see... ever think you would have gotten your wish?"

Ingrid _loved_ to bring that up, knowing Vlad had carried the sick and twisted torch for her since he first hit puberty and Ingrid held him to a wall by his throat, breath fanning across his face and it set off powerful sparks of desire. After that, he could barely keep his eyes off her.

Their relationship had started off fairly similarly; except Vlad couldn't believe she'd desired him too. Now he couldn't deny it, pushing his hips as deep as he could and Ingrid moaned, gripping at his bicep and shoulder. Vlad looked down, watching his cock vanish into Ingrid's body over and over, coated in her arousal and it was a potent sight - him _inside_ her. The ultimate, eternal blessing - Ingrid was his wife for all of time now, immortals who were bloodbound.

"Lucifer, you're so hot Ingrid."

She bit his lip, fangs down as Vlad slowly stole her control over her body. Ingrid was _so_ responsive, hips rolling up to meet his thrusts and letting out a steady stream of moans and curses, nails sinking into the back of his shoulder as the table beneath them rattled - they made a habit of using most of the furniture for unintended purposes. Ingrid was just **irresistible.**

"Come on Vlad, fuck me little brother."

Ingrid lived to bait him, encourage him, tempt him. Vlad stilled his hips and pulled out, drawing a primal growl from Ingrid's throat.

"Turn around."

She was bent over with that perfect ass to him in only a matter of seconds, leaving Vlad needing to admire the flawless curve for a minute. Ingrid whined needily as he squeezed the pale globes, pushing back on him as soon as Vlad pressed his cock against her. Sinking back into the exquisite grip, Vlad rested his forehead between her shoulder blades and picked up his thrusts, the new angle making Ingrid cry out with that raw, base need of his wife needing to come soon.

"So close, harder Vlad!"

Gripping her hips, Vlad put a little more force into his thrusts and _Lucifer_ did Ingrid respond. Her back arched, the _stone_ table cracked beneath her fingers and if there was another vampire in the entire castle they would know Ingrid was getting fucked right about now.

Vlad felt his own climax approach, pushing a hand over his sisters hiked up dress and pressing his fingers against her clit. Ingrid quaked in his hold, head falling forward as she gasped his name like an oath, then cried out as her body spasmed around his cock. Holding still for the ten or so seconds Ingrid was clamping down so tight he feared hurting her, Vlad let the next few thrusts take him to the peaks of pleasure, pressing his hips as deep as he could to spill inside his sister.

Nobody had ever made him come like Ingrid could. Nobody ever _would._

Ingrid turned around on slightly shaky legs, smile playing across her lips as Vlad's come trickled down her thigh. She was utterly debauched, blatantly post-coital and she couldn't look more smug about it. Righting his scrubs rather than have them halfway down his legs, Vlad cupped her cheek and kissed her.

"I love you."

Ingrid actually smiled then, nodding as if in agreement.

"Quite right to. Go start a bath? I need to go get out of this outfit."

About to leave, Vlad eyed her clothing.

"If you're never wearing it again why can't I just rip it off? Happy to help."

Ingrid seemed to consider it for a minute, then smirked.

"Since you like it so much, I might keep it."

His belly fizzled pleasantly; he loved Halloween.

-YD-

 **Oh it's been so long since I wrote my OTP in a one shot.**

 **Much too long.**


End file.
